Dragon Age Inquisition: Farms and Estates

Lady Evelyn

Naia Tabris had given Alistair many useful pieces of advice over the years. One of them was about the relaxing effects of a hot bath. Alistair decided to follow her recommendation after leaving the state dinner. He tried not to feel too guilty about leaving Eamon behind. With Lady Evelyn gone, the former Arl was probably in for a dull evening, but Alistair was not about to waste a perfectly good escape plan.

And what exactly caused her Ladyship's sudden headache? Alistair wondered as he leaned back in the tub. Was de Fabron annoying her? Or was there something else ...

A soft scuffling sound interrupted his musings.

He paused and listened, but the sound did not repeat itself. Even so, he cast his eyes over to his sword, seeking reassurance in its familiar shape. Back when he became a Grey Warden he had been trained never to leave his weapon out of arms' reach, and the habit remained. The blade had been replaced several times since the Blight, but he kept the battered Warden cross-guard and hilt despite the sighs of the palace armsmasters. Even Kings were allowed to be a little sentimental.

Alistair had emerged from the bath and was toweling himself dry when he heard the outer door to his chambers open. He expected it to be Eamon with a report on the evening's conversations, so he secured his towel around his waist and prepared to shout out that he would just be a moment—but his guards did not announce Eamon's presence. Instead, he heard a distinct thump.

Well. That's ... probably bad.

Alistair reached out and clasped the hilt of his sword in his hand. Silently, he raised the blade and eased the door to his bath open.

A young man Alistair recognized from the palace staff was looming over one of his armchairs, glaring down at a dark-haired woman sitting there. The woman's face was half in shadow, but Alistair could see her twisting her hands nervously.

The servant placed a hand at his belt, clearly intending to draw a weapon—but suddenly the woman raised her hand and threw something in his face. The man choked, stumbled, and collapsed on the carpet.

Knockout powder? Who ...?

The woman stood a bit unsteadily, her gaze focused on the man at her feet. With a start, Alistair realized that it was none other than his missing dinner guest, still wearing the wine-soaked dress from a few hours before. The gown was now extremely wrinkled and there was a small tear in one sleeve. Evidently, Lady Evelyn had had an interesting evening.

He cleared his throat; she turned her head, her face paling in surprise. "Good evening, Lady Evelyn."

The Inquisitor's sister composed herself remarkably quickly. "Well met, your Majesty."

Alistair held his sword steady and tried to look Kingly and intimidating. He also tried not to think too hard about the fact that he was wearing nothing but a towel. "Well met indeed. Now that we have the pleasantries out of the way, what in the Maker's name are you doing in my chambers, and why is there an unconscious man at your feet?"

"Noticed him, did you?" Lady Evelyn asked, with a hint of a sheepish smile.

"I did. In fact, I almost always notice strange people-sized objects on the floor of my room. King Alistair the Mildly Observant, that's what they'll call me in stories and songs. Or in hostile limericks."

Lady Evelyn pressed her lips together, muffling a slight chuckle.

Alistair had to suppress his own smile; even under the circumstances, it was nice to have someone laugh at his jokes. "Now then. Back to my question: what are you doing here? If you don't want to answer, I can also call the palace guard. Up to you, really."